Jaimie in Wonderland Part 4. Category: Long and Satisfying.
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Content Warning: Contains themes of oral and vaginal sex, group sex (‘gang-bang’) and drug and alcohol use.
Welcome to the fourth and concluding part of ‘Jaimie in Wonderland.’
Let’s get the public service announcements out of the way first…
Despite the Wonderland/Alice theme, this is a story for grown-ups. If you’re not a grown-up, can I invite you, in the nicest possible way, to do one? There will be plenty of time for reading stuff like this when you’re older.
Secondly, this story contains themes of drug use. It’s just a story, so don’t read anything into it. Remember: Drugs are bad, mmmKay?
Thirdly, safe sex, yeah? This is a fantasy but let’s all play safe in real life please.
If you landed here randomly from the internet, thank god – the fucking algorithms might actually be working in my favour at last! Seriously, though, can I suggest you catch up with the story so far from the beginning?
OK. Are we all ready now? Please ensure your tray tables are closed and your seat is in the fully reclined position.
Approximately a 25-minute read.
50.
Just when I was thinking all was lost, my eyes being closed and my life flashing before my eyes, I felt a hand in mine, pulling me up and out of the sea of my own squirt which I had been about to perish in. Opening my eyes, I found to my amazement that I was not, in fact, shrunk to the size of a peanut M&M but was my regular size and shape. I had been sprawling in my own emissions, though, and was glad to be helped up and offered a towel by the owner of the kindly hand. The towel didn’t look especially clean, but it was better than remaining wet.
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum were paying no attention; they were now seated at the table and tucking into burgers and fries and pouring slugs of vodka into the cola cups which had been provided with the meals. I deduced that my saviour was none other than ‘The Caterpillar.’ He was, appropriately enough, in fancy dress as a caterpillar with dozens of ‘legs’ – seemingly formed with strips of black rubber pipe insulation – which had been affixed haphazardly to the front of his green overalls. He had a hair band on his head with a couple of fake antennae attached, and his face was painted with smudged green paint.
‘I can probably guess what’s happened,’ he said kindly as he showed me over to the table and offered me a seat. ‘These two have had their way and left you on the floor as soon as the food arrives. Pretty standard.’
51.
‘Fuck off, Caterpillar.’ Said Dum, through a mouthful. ‘She said we were gay, and we had a little bet with her. I think she understands now that we aren’t, and before you give her any food, you should be aware that she isn’t allowed any on account of losing the bet.’
‘Oh, you can fuck off,’ said Caterpillar. ‘I went and got the bloody food; I’ll give it to whoever I want.’ He pushed a wrapped burger across the table to me and a takeaway cup of cola. ‘Want something to liven that up?’ He asked.
I nodded and he tipped a sizeable measure of the vodka into it.
The caterpillar talked as I ate, and I learned that one of the regular local burger vans had learned of the event and had wrappers printed up with ‘eat me’ on them. I didn’t need the encouragement of a fast-food wrapper and devoured the surprisingly decent burger like I hadn’t eaten for days. After, I felt like I had definitely regained my normal size, and, fuzzy head and weird visual disturbances notwithstanding, was feeling somewhat better.
52.
‘There you are!’ I looked up. It was Chesh.
‘Could you stop doing that?’ I said. ‘A little warning would be nice. Could you put a bell around your neck or something?’
‘Am I a cow or something? Stop talking nonsense – The Queen has demanded an audience! She’s the organiser of the event, you know? It’s great news – you can get your things and you’ll be able to go home.’
‘Brilliant! Oh, great. Thanks, Chesh!’
‘Um… she may want to play cards before you go, though. It’s sort of her thing, you see.’
‘Cards? What the fuck?’
‘I know, right? But let’s just go and see. I’m sure it’ll be all good.’
‘Don’t take this personally, but coming from you, that’s not reassuring.’
‘Well, that’s not very nice. I thought we’d formed a bond.’
‘We have – I’d just prefer it if things were a little less eventful when you’re around.’
Chesh just grinned in response and led me by the hand towards the door. Dee and Dum were completely ignoring me now in favour of their food, but I thanked the Caterpillar for his kindness before leaving.
I followed Chesh down a seemingly endless series of small corridors, up some stairs, down others, and through several doors that seemed to serve no purpose. I hoped Chesh didn’t do her disappearing act again, or I would be stuffed – there was no chance of me finding my way back again.
‘Here we are.’ Chesh announced at last. She knocked on the door, then, without waiting for a response, opened it and gestured for me to go through.
I entered the room, wondering what this most unhinged evening yet had in store. It couldn’t be any more bizarre than anything which had come before, surely.
How wrong can one woman be?
53.
The scene which greeted me was this. The room was unlike any other that I had seen in the complex. It was furnished more like a Victorian gentleman’s club crossed with a high-class brothel. If I hadn’t thought myself to have lost my wits before, I was seriously considering it as a possibility now.
The heavy, dark-wood table in the centre of the room was surrounded by ornate, upholstered chairs in scarlet velvet fabric on dark chestnut. Wall lights and candles perched atop black, wrought, floor-standing candle holders cast a flickering golden glow across the scene. I wondered if I had stumbled into a satanist’s coven rather than a card game.
Seated were several persons I recognised and one I didn’t. There, around the table were Chesh (how had she got there when she was standing behind me moments ago?); Blanche (at last! She gave me a smile as I entered); Chloe, and, lastly, a woman who seemed to be an inversion of myself: dark hair, red latex dress, black corset and a look of carnal avarice in her eyes; made over with tones of dark shadows which gave her the look of a lustful vampire: all glossy red, smoke and burning embers.
The only man present was seated behind the woman in red. He was also wearing red, specifically, latex chaps and a black latex vest with a large red love-heart in the middle of it. He had a dog-collar around his neck, and the end of the red leather lead, which was attached to it, was hooked to the arm of the woman’s chair.
54.
There was an empty chair at the table, and, trying to subdue my fear, I walked to it and sat, doing my best to conjure an air of serenity when, in fact, behind the mask, all was anxiety and turmoil.
She shuffled the cards in her hands. Deliberately. Expertly, and then put the deck down in front of Chesh, who was seated to her right.
‘Alice! We’ve been expecting you. You may call me ‘The Queen’. As you see, several of your friends have come to play.’
‘What game shall we be playing?’ I asked.
‘Poker.’ She replied. ‘Do you play?’
‘Yes,’ I lied. I had no idea how to play but understood that my hostess’s question was rhetorical.
‘Excellent.’ She said. ‘The stakes are our clothes.’
‘We’re playing strip poker?’ I exclaimed. ‘Seriously?’
‘That’s what we’re playing,’ she replied. ‘Until there are two of us remaining, and then there will be a play-off.’
‘What’s the prize?’
‘Well, let’s eliminate the other players first, and then we’ll consider who wins and who forfeits and what.’
‘Can I just have my phone and keys?’ I said.
‘If that’s what you want to play for, sure.’
‘Can’t I just have them? Why do I have to play cards for them?’
She smiled. ‘My house, my rules.’
And so it was settled. The players would be the Queen, Chloe, Blanche and me. Chesh was going to act as croupier and was already demonstrating considerable skill in cutting and shuffling the pack, which did not surprise me in the least.
55.
Chesh dealt the first hand of cards, and we began to play. As the game went on, I found, to my amazement, that I was winning quite a lot. Given that I had never played poker before and had no idea of the rules, this struck me as somewhat odd. I decided not to overthink it in case that would disrupt my ‘juju’, and just kept my focus on looking like I knew what I was doing. I knew enough to be aware that it was important to maintain a ‘poker-face’ (thanks Lady Gaga), but since I had no idea if I had a good hand or not, it was very easy to maintain an inscrutable demeanour.
After a few hands, I had lost both my shoes but nothing else. The queen had lost her corset, which I got the impression she was pleased to be taking off. Chloe and Blanche were already half-naked, and it looked like they would be out of the game soon. At this point, the Queen decided that refreshments were required.
‘King dearest.’ She said, without turning her head.
‘Yes, mistress?’
‘Take orders for drinks and send the Tarts off to fetch them.’
56.
King pressed a button which was taped to the wall behind his head. I heard the sound of a buzzer outside the room, and two girls came in. They had not been there when I arrived. The girls, whom I assumed to be ‘The Tarts’, both wore red lingerie sets complete with black stockings with red welts and red patent stripper heels. They were both redheads, and their makeup seemed to have been done to make them look as cheap and overtly slutty as possible. They also had dog collars around their necks with, respectively, ‘Tart One’ and ‘Tart Two’ in bold glittery block capitals upon them.
‘Where the fuck have you two been?’ Asked the Queen. ‘When I called you earlier, you weren’t there.’
‘It was the Knave, mistress. He stole us away, ‘e did!’ Offered Tart One.
‘You went off to snort a few lines with him, more like. Look at your bloody eyes, both of you – like fucking piss-holes in the snow. Later on, if I’m feeling benevolent, I shall permit King to fuck me, and after he has come, wherever I decide to allow him; you two little whores will be on cleanup duty as a penance.’
‘Oh, thank you, mistress!’ Exclaimed Tart Two. ‘It’s like Christmas has come early!’
King took drinks orders.
It occurred to me that it might not be a great idea to have more to drink, but not wanting to be the odd one out, I thought I had better. What did people drink when they played poker?
‘Vodka martini, twist of lemon, shaken not stirred.’ I said.
The Queen let out a laugh, which annoyed me, but I was gratified to see that she ordered the same, and so did everyone else.
57.
A few more hands went by, and, as predicted, Chloe and Blanche were stark naked; The Queen and I were clinging to the last shreds of our dignity and clothes. I had both of my white holdups left. I had opted to lose the latex dress first, as the room was very warm and I was beginning to think I would pass out if I didn’t manage to cool off.
I didn’t have the final refuge of my thong since it had been lost during the incident with Dee and Dum. I was only reassured by the Queen being in a similar state of undress; she had also shed her dress but did have some matching red latex knickers on underneath – I caught a glimpse when she stood to wriggle out of the dress. I might have been mistaken, but I could swear that they had the slogan ‘drink me’ on them.
Eventually, we came to the final hand – a sudden death playoff between the Queen and me – and I found that the ‘juju’ had well and truly deserted me. I played my hand with all the skill that my lack of knowledge and experience might have dictated.
‘And you were doing so well,’ the Queen observed, with a little smirk on her face. ‘I thought it was worth making it appear to be a contest, if only for appearances’ sake. It’s not catching the prey that’s the thrill; it’s the pursuit, isn’t it?’
58.
‘What happens now?’ I asked. I felt a sense of resignation. I had tried, throughout these last few hours, to recapture some agency over what was happening, but in every circumstance, I seemed to be more or less at the mercy of others. ‘I really just want to get my things and go home.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a party-pooper,’ said the Queen. ‘You shall have your things, and I will even call you a taxi, at my expense, for being such a good sport. You will be a good sport, won’t you?’
‘I suppose…’ I said.
‘Good. Well, I think you won’t mind once you know what I’ve got in mind.’
A couple of minutes later, I had been arranged on the table, on my back. My legs were spread wide; each being held by one of the Tarts, providing the service of being human stirrups to hold me in position. A chair was placed to the side of the table, and King assisted the Queen to climb up onto it and then onto the table. She stood over my head, a foot on either side, giving me an impressive view up, beyond her black fishnet stockings, to her pussy.
‘So,’ she said, addressing the others, ‘you are to circle the table and take turns with her. You get one minute each, which I shall time. When I come, whoever is between her legs must make her come, but you still only get one minute to do so. Whoever makes her come after I have, wins. It’s a bit like a game of musical chairs, and the winner will receive a little prize! Alright, ready, steady… Go!’
59.
With that, the Queen lowered herself into a squat, and I found the pussy which I had just now been admiring from a distance was hovering right above my mouth. I might previously have baulked at such a debauched party game with people who – apart from one – I didn’t know three hours ago, but after everything else that had happened, this didn’t seem so much a question of lines being crossed as simply evaporating and not being there anymore. I obediently extended my tongue and began to lap.
I was unable to see what was going on elsewhere, of course, being able only to see the curve of my Queen’s arse and the bottom of her back. I could feel, however, soft lips fastening around my sex, and the tip of a gentle tongue began to glide over my clit. I jolted and moaned.
‘Don’t neglect your duties, Alice,’ said the Queen. ‘I can and will punish you most severely if you slack off.’
I refocussed my efforts, and the Queen moaned, moving her wet inner labia across my face, wiping herself on me and smearing her juices onto my cheeks and chin. I craned my tongue and flicked it into and across her cunt whenever any part of it was in range.
60.
‘Change!’ said the Queen. I gasped as I felt a cock sliding into me. It was clearly King’s turn now. He was sizable, as befitted his station, but I was so utterly sodden with my own lubrication that he was in my dripping pussy to the hilt in one thrust. I could feel the Tarts getting into the spirit by stroking my legs with teasing, gentle fingers as their liege-lord pumped away while his Queen undulated her hips in a slight rolling motion as I continued to strafe her with my tongue.
‘Change.’ Another mouth this time, lapping with long, rasping strokes. I could swear I heard a contented-sounding low, buzzy rumbling… a purr. There was no other way of describing it.
‘Change.’ I recognised the next tongue from the exquisitely precise and delicate way she had kissed me earlier. The tip of her tongue, so light, tracing the outlines of my pussy, slipping between folds and teasing. Now, she takes this or that part softly between her lips and sucks gently. Oh fuck. Can she just stay there, please?
‘Change!’ The Queen’s pussy was becoming very wet now; she was literally dripping into my mouth, running down my tongue. She was moving less now; focused on positioning herself over just the right spot for my questing lips and tongue to provide maximum stimulation as I probed, lapped and sucked. Despite trying to maintain her composure, she was beginning to lose it a little. She trembled, and there were little gasps and moans in between the barked instructions.
61.
All the while, the rotating carousel between my thighs continued. I knew with each change exactly who was pleasuring me. The penis was a giveaway, but the other three participants were immediately distinguishable by their differing techniques.
The cut-off of a minute was very cunning: it was enough to get to the point of feeling that my orgasm was approaching. The few seconds changeover between partners, however, had the effect of de-escalating just enough that my climax receded, ready for the next person to try to push me back to the edge. It was a delicious merry-go-round of edging by proxy and was driving my already somewhat addled mind into a state of sexual delirium.
The Queen shifted position, partly through necessity, as her thighs were now trembling uncontrollably and, also, because it was clear that she was getting close and wanted to get herself into a position where she could grind herself off on my face, which was already covered in her – I could feel trickles from time to time running down the side of my face and into my hair. She tucked one leg behind her, getting onto a single knee, and now her pussy was mashed to my mouth.
‘Change!’ she called, unsteadily now as I plunged my tongue fully into her and swirled it. She moaned loudly, and I felt the hard cock slide into me – all the way: loins slapping against me. The Tarts pulled my legs back towards me, opening me out even more, displaying me obscenely as I was pummelled by that huge, punishing cock.
62.
The Queen began to tip over, putting both hands full upon my breasts. Pressing and squeezing, painfully but, oh god – it was the final push that I needed and the orgasm which had been denied for what seemed an age finally began to hit, a tingling electrical shock building from my legs then exploding outwards from my cunt. I nearly choked as the Queen ground herself onto me; my mouth was full of her taste, and I could barely snatch at a half breath through my nostrils, themselves mashed against her arse.
King, seeing the events unfolding in front of him, began to slam himself into me and, moments later, I felt that mighty cock twitching and jerking inside me as he doused me with strings of hot semen.
As previously decreed, the Tarts were on cleanup duty and did not seem to mind the task of eating their masters cum from a mere commoner; taking to their task with enthusiasm, and bringing me, after a couple of minutes of vigorous sucking and probing with lips and tongues, to another shuddering orgasm.
63.
When I regained what passed for my senses, I found my companions had dressed or were in the closing stages of doing so. Blanche and Chesh assisted me with pulling my sweaty latex dress back on. There seemed little point in bothering with the holdups: they were dirty and decorated with cum and a couple of ladders. I was glad to have my corset returned to me – Chesh seemed to have retrieved it, goodness knows when or how, but I decided that I would not try to get it back on and would simply carry it instead.
It had been an unforgettable night, not always for the right reasons, but I was looking forward to retrieving my things, swapping contact details with Blanche, then having a shower and a long sleep.
‘What fun that was!’ Proclaimed the Queen. ‘I know you’re anxious to go home, Alice, but what about we have a sudden-death hand for my prize? As it was King who was the winner of our little game, he will not get anything, obviously. He can’t be my sub if I actually let him have something, can he? Let’s play a hand, just the rest of us, to see who gets the prize!’
There was a discernible lack of enthusiasm from the others assembled. Even the Tarts seemed to have hit a wall and were looking in need of a rest. Only Chesh seemed pleased with the idea, smiling her beaming smile and nodding her head.
64.
‘It’s kind of you,’ I started, ‘but I’m absolutely exhausted, and I just need to sleep now.’
‘I won’t take no for an answer.’ The Queen said, indignantly. ‘This is not the way to respond to hospitality, you know? In fact, it’s quite offensive.’
‘Really.’ I said wearily. ‘I’m so grateful for an amazing evening, but I absolutely cannot play any more cards or do anything, in fact, except sleep.’
‘Bloody ingratitude! After all I’ve done!’ I looked behind me at the others for backup, but found, to my combined amazement and dismay, that they had all disappeared. Only Chesh’s glowing impression of a grin was left hanging in the air where she had been only moments ago.
‘You will play with me, or you’ll regret it!’
‘No.’ I said, ‘And that’s the end of it. You can’t make me.’
The Queen shrieked in outrage and picked up the deck of cards from the table. She began to take them, one at a time and flick them at my face.
‘Ouch!’ One of them hit me on the nose.
‘Fucking ungrateful little whore, of all the rude, classless…’
‘Ouch!’ I backed away with my hands up to my face. This was insane. All I wanted to do was go home. The back of my legs hit something, and I fell backwards into the armchair in which the Queen had been sitting for most of our audience with her.
The Queen shrieked again.
‘Sitting on my throne! The fucking cheek!’ The cards began to cascade towards me like a torrent now, stinging when they got through my defences.
I covered my face with my hands as the cards flew at me. ‘Stop! Stop it!’
65.
‘Hey, hey! What’s the matter? What’s wrong?
I sat, momentarily, completely disorientated. There were no cards. I was sitting up. Somewhere warm. Somewhere comfortable. I spread my fingers a little and risked looking through them, ready to close them tightly again should a card or two come hurtling towards me. No cards came hurtling. I saw a bedroom, a nice bedroom. Not mine. My bedroom is a bit untidy with clothes and towels discarded on the floor. This bedroom was practically palatial, decorated in calming tones of white and cream. The bed I was in was huge, and the bedclothes luxurious. I had no idea where I was until I heard her voice again; then it all came rushing back. Her hand was on my leg, giving it a little squeeze.
‘I think that capsule was a little stronger than I thought, especially for someone who hasn’t taken that stuff before. Sorry. Can you forgive me?’
I looked back over my shoulder. I had only seen her before in a white bunny girl outfit, except at the card game, when I had also been delighted to see her strip naked. She was naked again now; her ebony dark tresses spread out across the white Egyptian cotton pillow. I hadn’t previously appreciated just how pale and porcelain-like her skin was. Now, in the morning light, it looked almost translucent and glowing. Pristine, like virgin snow. She smiled.
‘Well, can you?’
‘I expect so, but what happened?’
66.
‘I came back. Thankfully, they let me back into the party. You were on one of the sofas, completely out of it. Well, I couldn’t leave you there, so I brought you back here, and you’ve been sleeping ever since. You’ve had some pretty intense dreams, though, I would say.’
‘My phone…’
‘You woke up enough to come with me to the coat check, get your jacket and phone, and well, once I got you back here, you let me undress you and help you shower, but then you were out like a light.’
I felt myself blushing. ‘Chloe…?’
‘Your friend. She phoned about half an hour after we got back. I told her you were fine, and I was going to look after you. It turns out she hooked up with my, uh, ‘friend’, Toby Hatter – yes, his name actually is ‘Hatter’ – and was going to stay over with him. It’s all good, don’t worry. Um, actually…’
‘Yes?’
‘I was hoping that you might want to hang out for the rest of the day? You know, sleep it off, then maybe go and get brunch. Properly get to know each other, and later… maybe we could finish what we started last night?’ Her hand was on my arm now, stroking it gently.
I looked down at the small, perfectly manicured fingers touching me softly, then at the beautiful heart-shaped face with those large, dark eyes and full, soft lips. My musing was suddenly disrupted when a sleek, exotic-looking cat, with a soft, dark brown coat and a knowing look on her pretty face, jumped onto the bed.
67.
‘Oh, hello.’ Blanche laughed. ‘I’m surprised it’s taken this long: she’s not normally shy of strangers. Let me introduce you. Jaimie, this is-’
‘-Cheshtaa.’ I said.
Blanche looked at me in surprise. ‘How on earth did you know that?
‘I stroked Cheshtaa’s head and ruffled her ears. She began to purr and nuzzled her cheek against my hand.
‘She told me herself.’ I said.
The End.
Love, Jaimie. xx
Links and Stuff.
If you’ve read this whole story, firstly, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wouldn’t have bothered writing this and posting it here if I didn’t believe that there were still some people who have the patience to sit and read an actual story rather than just looking for instant bite-sized gratification.
This is, by far, the longest erotica I’ve written to date. I know that, for many, it will fall into the category of ‘TL:DR’ and I have to accept that. I’ll be writing a bit more flash fiction next but I’m also working on another long-form piece which will hopefully be ready for the Autumn.
The dress I’m wearing in the picture is more gorgeousness from the wonderful Westward Bound. I love them so much. I wish I’d spent a bit more time buffing it as it looks a little smeary in the picture. I only had an hour or so to get some pictures for this instalment, though. Still, it’s a bit annoying.
The card, by the way, isn’t photoshopped in or anything. This was one of the last pictures I took. My arse was covered in silicon lube (it’s the best for shining latex with) and I thought I’d try and get a picture of the card stuck on my bum. As the shutter clicked, it was peeling away, which is why it looks like it’s magically suspended in the air!
Jaimie
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